Past
"Master!" Quasimodo cries. As Claude Frollo plummets from the cathedral balcony, ebony robes swirling around his thin frame. Quasimodo leans over the railing to see Frollo clinging for dear life to one of the granite gargoyles, his bony fingers slipping on the cool polished stone. His grey hair blowing sideways from the blasts of heat coming from the large, scalding streams of molten metal. "Master!" Quasimodo cries, smoke stinging his eyes. Frollo heaves one scrawny arm over the gargoyles neck, body dangling precariously, hundreds of feet in the air, "Q-Quasimodo! Please!" he coughs harshly, thick, black smoke billowing skyward, momentarily engulfing his struggling figure.
"Quasi no!" Esmeralda gasps, grabbing him by the arm to keep him from going after Frollo. Quasimodo whimpers, torn between Esmeralda's pleading hold on his arm and Frollo's pitiful cries.
"Quasimodo!" Frollo's voice is choked with smoke as he shakily continues to hold onto the gargoyle. Esmeralda takes Quasimodo's face in her hands," Listen to me! He's trying to KILL you!"
Quasimodo eyes well up with tears as he answers, "But he's my Master, I have to save him!"
Esmeralda shakes her head, "No Quasi, don't!"
Quasimodo opens his mouth to protest further when Frollo's shrill screams interrupt him, and he scrambles to the railing in time to see Frollo dangling by one trembling hand. He looks up into their faces, dark grey eyes large and pleading, "Help...me!"
He reaches up his other hand, black stone ring glinting in the fiery glow, "Esmeralda!" he looks beseechingly up into her tan face. She crosses her arms, staring coldly back at him. But deep inside she feels a sharp stab of guilt as she watches the man who has been the symbol of everything bad in her life, claw desperately at the slick stone. "If I let him die, I will be as bad as him." she thinks aloud and at the sound of those words she throws a small hand toward the struggling Judge. He reaches up to take her hand, grey eyes surprised. Suddenly the gargoyle starts to crack, and Esmeralda makes a desperate grab for Frollo's bony hand, their fingertips brush lightly before the stone animal breaks and Frollo plunges toward the ground, screaming shrilly. His black robes fluttering around his twisting form as he somersaults through thin air. Spidery arms trying to grab a hold of something, anything to break his fall.
"NO MASTER!" Quasimodo sobs as the dark figure gets smaller and Frollo's terrified shrieks grow fainter.
"What have I done?" Esmeralda murmurs as she watches the thin body of Claude Frollo being swallowed up in the thick, blinding smoke.
Quasimodo sinks to the ground, covering his misshapen face in his huge hands as he sobs uncontrollably. Esmeralda stands, frozen, unable to move, staring, even after Frollo has disappeared from view and his panicked cries have ceased.
There are heavy footfalls and a cry of, "Esmeralda! Quasimodo!"
She looks up to see Phobias running toward them, closely followed by Clopin and Djali.
Esmeralda can't bring herself to leave the balcony railing, Frollo's frightened pleas echoing in her mind. "How could I have done this?" she asks, raven hair blowing in her face. Phobias comes next to her, eyes concerned, "Are you alright? Frollo didn't hurt you did he?"
She shakes her head mutely.
"Then what's the matter? You should be happy; we've saved Notre Dame and your people." He laughs, "Frollo's even dead to boot!"
Esmeralda feels her cheeks flush, "I let him fall, I was just as bad as him."
Phobias dismisses it with a wave of his hand, "Aw peshaw! You saved us!"
Clopin grins adding, "He's probably flat as a pancake, the idiot."
Esmeralda turns angrily on him, gesturing to Quasimodo who's still huddled, sobbing against the cold stone wall, clutching Frollo's cape tightly in his paw like hands, burying his face into the soft black material with the scarlet trim.
Phobias kneels down, "It's alright Quasi. Everything's going to be fine."
Quasimodo looks up into his face, "My Master, he's, he's dead!"
Phobias nods grimly, "I know, we'll help you find his body, give him a proper burial."
Quasimodo nods, hugging Phobias hard, "Thank you, you are all such good friends!"
Clopin sighs, "Should I go get some scrapers? Or maybe if we're lucky, Frollo will just peel off the pavement like a sticker."
Esmeralda shoots him a warning look, shaking her head slightly in Quasimodo's direction.
"Oh right, maybe more like a piece of sticky gum?"
Esmeralda kicks him in the shin.
Frollo looks up into Esmeralda's face, reaching out one thin hand to grasp hers. Suddenly he feels the stone cracking beneath his weight
and he plunges headfirst toward the ground, his fingers only just brushing hers. The sharp wind takes his breath away as he flips head over heels through thin air. "Please help me God!" is all he manages to scream as tears blur his vision and he waits for the hard impact of the pavement. He wonders what it will feel like to die, and hopes it will be sudden, not long and drawn out.
Suddenly his body connects with something solid, he feels all the air leave his lungs and a white-hot searing pain explodes through his whole body. It was supposed to be quick and painless, he thinks as he feels his ribs snap painfully before water washes over his head and his vision goes black.
There was no body on the ground anywhere around the cathedral, Esmeralda, Quasimodo, Clopin, Phobias and Djali searched for hours. Quasimodo weeping into Frollo's cape.
"Where the heck did he go?" Clopin asks aloud, turning his little puppet of the Judge over in his hands. Phobias shrugs, "Hard to say, you'd think we'd find SOMETHING."
Clopin grins, "Maybe he's coated in metal, like one of those caramel eggs with the chocolate shell."
Phobias roars with laughter, getting a withering look from Esmeralda.
Their search leads them past the Seine, its dark waters churning and swirling.
"I sure wouldn't want to fall in that." Clopin remarks, watching pieces of tree branches go slipping swiftly by, caught in the ruthless current. "Tell me about it." Phobias says, absentmindedly rubbing his chest, remembering the feel of falling into the freezing water from Frollo's horse. That getaway had gone wrong and nearly gotten him killed, a arrow through his chest. Apparently his armor didn't come with a back plate and arrows are sharper than leather.
Esmeralda is standing perfectly still, her eyes traveling from the cathedral's balcony down to the dark river below, "Its not possible..." she mutters, bright green eyes widening with the realization of the possibility.
"What's not possible?" Clopin asks his purple mask almost black in the shadow of Notre Dame. Esmeralda shakes her head, "He couldn't have survived that great of a fall."
"No, most people don't." Clopin says smiling wryly at his little puppet.
"But if he fell into water..." Esmeralda thinks aloud as she stares at the Seine. Clopin snaps his head up, "Fell into water?" He looks up to the balcony and then down at the river, "You've got to be kidding."
Phobias shakes his head, "It had to be the balcony overlooking the Seine, why can't life ever be perfect?"
Frollo heaves his broken body onto the rocky shore, retching painfully, spitting up water. His black robes heavy and waterlogged. He crawls halfway out of the river before he collapses into a shivering choking heap. His waist and legs are still in the freezing water, but Frollo can't seem to find the strength to pull himself any farther. He looks up the shore but sees no one. Why would anyone want to help him anyway? He's universally feared and hated; he knows nobody in their right mind would even come near him, let alone help. Frollo's shivering uncontrollably, whole thin body shaking violently. He gasps for air, laying his head down on the cold rocks, for the first time in a long time tears cloud his vision, he scolds himself, Weak man, its nothing more than a scratch. But as pain shoots through his chest and side all he can do is sob bitterly. He reaches one trembling hand toward the road, his wet robes clinging to his lithe, angular figure like skin. As the sun sets in the horizon and a cold wind sweeps over the bank Frollo's bitter weeping only becomes more hysterical, he squeezes his eyes closed as hot tears slip from under his closed eyelids. He knows the rivers current will change and drag him under, but he doesn't have the strength to even lift his head anymore, and none to pull the rest of his aching body out of the water.
Esmeralda shivers in the cool evening breeze, bare feet numb. She pushes some loose stands of unruly black hair behind her ear as she picks her way over the river bank, admiring the pink rays of the fading sunset in the glassy surface of the Seine. Djali lets out his bleating cry, looking at something farther down the bank. Esmeralda shields her eyes against the few remaining sun rays and spots what Djali is bleating about, a thin figure is lying facedown on the riverbank. "What on earth?" she gasps running as fast as her legs will carry her. She drops to her knees next to the prostrate body, and gently touches the bony shoulder of the shivering man lying in front of her. He coughs harshly, lifting up his head, dark grey hair plastered to his skull. Esmeralda gasps in surprise, finding herself staring into the steel grey eyes of Claude Frollo. He's ghostly white in the fading light, aquiline nose casting a shadow over half of his face. He looks up into her eyes, and murmurs, "Esmeralda." his usually silky purring voice is shaky and cracking. She involuntarily shrinks away from him. Frollo reaches out a pale thin hand and catches a hold of the edge of her skirt, trying to speak but instead his dark eyelids droop and his head falls back down to the cold stones. She gently puts two fingers under his jaw and feels for a pulse. "Judge Frollo can you hear me?"
There's no answer and his heartbeat is faint. Esmeralda looks down at his bony hand still clinging to the fringe of her skirt, he's trembling with cold and she feels a pang of sympathy at the sight of his thin shivering body, she can remember many times when she shivered in snowy doorways, feet too cold and chapped to dance. Esmeralda gets up and Frollo's hand thuds limply to his side. She grabs him firmly under his shaking arms and heaves his long, streamlined body all the way out of the river. She continues to drag him up the bank until they reach the road and she lays the Judge down on the cobblestones. Frollo's face is twisted up in pain and a few half stifled moans escape his throat.
e your document here...